One Word Prompt Series: Stop
by kdzl
Summary: In order for anything to start, something else has to stop.


_**AN/Another piece of my "One-Shot Prompt Series." Elle was never my favorite character, so I'd really appreciate the feedback on this one.**_

* * *

"In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."

_-Abraham Lincoln_

* * *

If you don't catch this guy, you're going to have to throw yourself under a bus, at least, that's what you tell yourself as the Seattle Strangler's next victim is found.

You aren't the type to give up, you aren't the type to be stopped.

You call the BAU, and hope your loose connections with Derek Morgan can somehow help you out here.

* * *

They took the case, you're so happy you could cry. Not really, you don't cry, only wimps cry. You've been raised by a Puerto Rican mother who had to pick herself up from the bootstraps and make something of herself. Your mother taught you one thing better than anything else, don't cry, do. So, you stop thinking about it and get to work.

* * *

"Do you know what word appears more in your file than any other?" Gideon asks as you trail the red Z. You assume its rhetorical because if you had your guess, it would probably be an obscenity.

"Impatient." He informs as you nod in understanding. That would make sense, sometimes you just can't stop, or maybe its that you stop too easily. That you stop thinking and planning and waiting, and you just become ready to do.

"Lets get him." You say tersely. If your known for being impatient, why stop now?

* * *

As you shoot the strangler, you find that nothing feels so good

You love saving the day

You love winning.

And you love that now you're a shoe in for the opening at Quantico

And some things just feel so good, that you wish they wouldn't stop.

* * *

Now you've made it to the BAU and you are thrilled. This is what you've always wanted.

This, and to make your dad proud.

And this accomplishes both.

You find your desk gleefully, until it hits you that you have to be within earshot of Morgan all day. This ought to be fun, listening to the 'playa' go at it.

And you also have to listen to Reid and his statistics. Who knew Twinkies were 68% air? Or that the average American owns 14 credit cards? That's an easy answer...Reid. You swear he knows everything that books can teach. You worry about him though, you worry that he isn't very good socially. You try to... and then you stop. You remember that Spencer Reid is a big boy and he doesn't need you to protect him.

But you can't really help it, because you are from Brooklyn, you have to cheer for the underdog. You also have worked with too many rape victims to count, it makes you soft. Not soft in a bad, weak way, but it helps you be human, something you've always struggled with. It makes you capable of sympathy, because while the gig callouses you, it also reminds you that people can overcome. Because you see that same lost look in Reid's eyes that you've seen in all those women you've helped.

But you banish this from your thought pattern. You're not certain, but you have a hunch that Reid wouldn't really appreciate being looked at like one of the rape victims you worked with.

So this is what the big league is like.

* * *

Note to self, the blondes hate you.

Well, they just met you so you're sure that they don't hate you a ton.

But they sure don't seem to like you.

Its the Garcia/JJ cult, and you aren't invited.

They're polite enough, but you can tell they have history.

And that they really don't care to let you in on it.

You are ninety percent sure that its because you are too messy for Garcia's taste.

And your 100 percent sure that JJ doesn't like you because you scare her.

And you actually care a little, which surprises you, because you never care, and then you realize that you're being pathetic. So you stop caring what the blondes think and do your thing, and surprise, they both tell you good job.

And they seem like they're sincere.

And you realize that you might have been wrong.

* * *

There are times when you should have stopped a little sooner...like when you and Reid are talking about the bomber and you tell him that this guy doesn't feel in comfortable in front of a group, and that he doesn't go on dates, and then out of habit, you look up.

And you see his face.

Shear panic.

Instantly you feel a small twinge of guilt.

A small one, he is twenty-four after all, he should be able to get over it.

But you have to backtrack...the one thing you've never been good at.

"And of course he's total psychopath." You add, hoping that if fixes something, and when Reid nods, you feel a strange amount of comfort.

Its in times like these that you realize that coming from an incredibly blunt, sarcastic, family might be a handicap in some situations.

New goal...

Learn sympathy...

Well, sort of. You don't want to be a pansy.

Because you are sure Morgan would just love that.

* * *

"Do you think its weird that I knew about the poem." Reid asks as you sit there, praying that the unsub tries to give you a call.

You were about to say that you did, but you decide to start working on that sympathy thing...It certainly couldn't hurt. Because sometimes, you think Reid actually likes being the puppy that everyone kicks, almost as if he was addicted to it. And you aren't about to give him that satisfaction. "I don't know how it is you know half the things you know, but I'm glad you do." And you're being honest...mostly.

"Do you think that's why I can't get a date?" He asks you, causing you to have a sharp intake of breath. Where ever you were expecting this conversation to lead, this was not it. You struggle to keep yourself from laughing.

As you finally control yourself, you manage to ask. "Have you ever asked anyone out?" And part of you already knows the answer. Because you know that deep down that he's a Sweetheart, and any girl would love to date him...except you...and maybe others.

"No." He answers, causing you to roll your eyes...of course.

"That's why you can't get a date." You inform him, and you think nothing more of it until you are on the plane.

When he sits next to JJ, you see him shaking with something that Gideon handed him.

And you can't believe what you're over-hearing, but it sounds to you that he is asking JJ on a date.

And you can't stop yourself from hoping that maybe it will work out...

That the nerd really does get the girl.

Not that you think Reid is a nerd.

Just expressionally speaking.

Because you are from Brooklyn, and you can't stop loving under dog stories.

And you've seen the way that the blonde steals glances at the nerd, and even if you are somewhat calloused, you can't stop being a _girl._

Yes, you love under dog stories.

Even when they involved puppies that want to be kicked.

* * *

Trish Davenport asks you how you do it.

How you stomach it.

And actually, you aren't sure.

But it feels good...

So good that you just can't stop.

So as you tell her that you like putting cowards in prison, you tell most of the truth, because the rest of it really is hard to stomach

You like it because it reminds you that you aren't them

And that in the end, you like that you win.

* * *

When you get back to Quantico, you see Morgan and his paper work.

And you can't help but laugh.

Because you love watching him suffer.

But as you remember that he'd been tazered in the last 48 hours.

So you stop.

And do the decent thing.

You help him with his files...

And that's when you decide that learning compassion wasn't as important as you thought it was, because it keeps you here all hours of the night.

Maybe that's just another thing to stop.

* * *

One moment, you are sitting quietly on a train, going to do your first custodial and the next...

You are stuck in a volatile hostage situation where you could be shot at any moment.

Over all, just a normal day in the BAU.

Great, and as you try to resolve the situation, you have no power to do what needs to be done.

And when you see Reid walk into the room, you think its time you either shout for joy...

Or weep for your ultimate demise.

Because Reid is capable of two things...Greatness

or utter failure.

And you almost fail to stop the proud smile as Reid--though you have no idea how--pulls a computer chip out of the gun-weilding UnSub's arm.

It's probably some stupid magic trick since the kid does it all the time.

But when Bryer asks him to turn it on and you see the genius stop,

You know you have to act.

"It only works when it's inside you." You supply, hoping Reid will take the suggestion and run with it.

He does.

And though he goes on some rant that you stop listening to, you can't help but feel proud of the kid.

And you do something that's outside your comfort zone.

When all is said and done, and the crazy is strapped in the back of an ambulance,

you do something you seldom--if ever--do

you tell Reid thank you.

But there's a lingering question, something that you can't stop yourself from asking,

because Reid hinted that he knew what it was like to be a derranged schizophrenic,

and you just have to know.

But even though he says that he was just talking down the UnSub,

You can't help but think that there's more to it than that.

And though you really want to press the issue,

You don't.

Sometimes, it's just better to stop.

* * *

There are very few skills you have that no one else on the team does...

Being fluent in Spanish is one of them.

You can't help but enjoy the feeling of your profiling and your being bilingual working together.

But problems begin to arise...

Because now you are back in DC and you can't stop.

There is nothing worse than ordering and have them ask if you wanted a hispanic waiter.

For everyone whining that America was becoming the Spanish capital of the world, you can't help but notice that no one seems to speak it in DC.

_Es mas horible!_

_

* * *

_

You don't hate the phone.

Well, you do...

But the fact that they are basing some ridiculous theories off of you using it is so weak,

Except, they are pretty spot on.

But you haven't called Patrick yet.

So they are wrong in what they are using for evidence,

But more right than you'd like to admit.

And as you are stuck in the car with Morgan,

You so don't want to have the conversation he has in mind, so you do what you do best...

Deflect.

Because Morgan is a complete pig.

And the car is starting to stink.

But as he presses you for details,

You wish he knew the art of stopping.

But no,

His idea of stopping something is just tackling it.

* * *

"I'm on vacation man!" You shout at the Jamaican cop. Sometimes you don't know how people got to be so stupid.

Because you get arrested for a murder you didn't commit...

You are a federal Agent,

Do they really think you spend for vacations murdering?

Don't you get enough of death during the work week?

It seriously the most ridiculous thing you think you've ever heard.

And as Hotch walks into the interrogation room, you suddenly feel relieved,

first time he has ever had that effect on you.

Sometimes you wish you could stop people from being morons.

Seriously, you are a federal agent. Why would you murder some random man?

* * *

You manage to get yourself into your house and you are utterly exhausted.

Which is why instead of trying to collapse on your bed, you decide that your couch serves its purposes nicely.

So as you lay your head down, you hear someone breathing loudly.

"Rules. I told you to obey the rules." The scratchy voice commands as you see a gun lifted toward you.

And you start to panic...

And suddenly as you hear the the bullet leave the gun and rip through you

Everything just...

Stops.

* * *

You feel yourself dying.

You're sure of it.

And in your final moments, you see your father.

And you feel ready to go with him.

You feel ready to die.

And as you speak to him, you feel the comfort that you've been lacking for the last twenty years.

But then he says something that strikes you as odd,

He reminds you of something that you should have known.

_Dying is your choice._

Life or death, its your decision...

And you're letting yourself die.

So as you begin fading fast, something happens

You stop dying.

You stop trying to let go,

And you start holding on.

You start to fight.

You start to allow yourself to come back to the fluorescent lights of the hospital.

You start to live again.

* * *

You woke up.

Part of you didn't think you would

But you did.

You are now awake...

Which means you are alive.

And while you are glad that you aren't dead, its almost a hollow victory.

Because part of you does feel dead.

Part of you doesn't feel like you anymore.

You want to feel like you.

But now you just feel like the Anti-Elle.

And all you can do is hope that it stops.

* * *

As you lay on the couch watching TV, you are still asking yourself the question that you haven't been able to get out of your mind.

Is Ginny really having Justin's baby? Or is it Teddy's and she's just trying to lure him in to her evil end game.

And that's when you hear it, the logical part of your brain mocking you.

You are not the Soap Opera type.

You never have been the Soap Opera type, and so this is entirely unacceptable.

This has got to stop.

So as you find your way to the beloved walls of the BAU,

You panic a little when Hotch tells you that you're still on leave.

But he gets what its like to have to push yourself in order to keep going.

And he allows you back into the field.

Of course you have to work with Reid,

But at least you still get to carry a gun.

And as you jimmy open an lock on a drawer,

You swell with pride at your Brooklyn roots.

Thank heavens for working hours!

And while you still feel like the Anti-Elle, it gives you a small hope that you can be back to normal someday.

* * *

Its your first undercover assignment since your shooting...

And you don't think you can really do this.

You want to be able to...

You have to be able to...

But deep down, you know you can't.

This was the Elle sort of gig.

And you, the anti-Elle aren't meant for undercover.

Quite frankly, you don't feel meant for law enforcement.

But you have to stop the fight between who you are and who you used to be,

so you say yes.

And moments in, you freak out and run to face him.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn't help it.

Anit-Elle doesn't like being told no.

So as you make the arrest, you hope you didn't jump the gun too far.

* * *

"You're just letting him walk?" You cry indignantly, positive that this could kill you. "Just like that?"

"We're only letting him go because you freaked out." He retorts angrily, and now you want it to push it back in his face. "You should of trusted..."

"I should have trusted you?" You laugh derisively. "The last time you sent me home Hotch, you got me shot."

And now you see it, the words slap him squarely on the face, but you can't help but smile faintly--you won. You won and you won't be stopped. Justice be damned, because you know what you need to do.

So this is it, you finally understand the question that Reid posed to you once. What happens when the unstoppable force meets an immovable object? They collide, and this time, you're the unstoppable force and this...this false form of justice that Hotch is pushing to protect...that's the immovable object. Now who knows whose going to win?

* * *

The problem that night wasn't that you didn't stop to think, the problem was that you didn't stop at all.

If you would have thought, you would have known going there at all was a bad idea.

But there you were, waiting outside of his apartment building, ready to take control.

And as you face him, it never occurs to you that you knew how it was going to end. You always knew, and as he turns to walk away, you know now is the time to do what you always knew you were going to have to do.

"Lee." You say as he insinuates that you let him go. You can't let him go again. Not this time, screw justice. Screw the right thing to do. Normally, your conscience would have tried to control you, but tonight...it just...stopped.

And as you pull the trigger, you feel your heart begin to beat again.

You feel alive

And within a heartbeat you know that he's dead

And this is a scary thought for you to be having.

That killing him makes you feel more alive.

Maybe you were more like Lee than you originally thought.

_So this is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object._ You muse to yourself. End score: unstoppable force one, immovable object zip.

* * *

You killed a man, you should feel something. The problem is, you just don't. Its not like the time Reid killed Dowd and Gideon said that he didn't know how he felt, no, I felt nothing. I used to feel guilt and emotions readily, but now...its all just...stopped.

* * *

You used to want this...

It used to be all you could think about

It used to be the reason you woke up in the morning

It used to mean every thing...

It being the phone ring.

The Case.

The Job.

But all the sudden, its just...stopped.

And no matter how badly you want to

You just don't give a damn

You don't have it in you to want it anymore.

And now, you're terrified

Because everything you thought you wanted, you don't

At least, not anymore

And you have no idea where to go or what to do

So you do the only thing that you think might bring you some small peace.

You visit your father.

And as the phone rings, you toss it in the garbage, knowing that you just can't do this anymore.

You can't pretend to be the Elle you used to be

Because you aren't

Because you shot him

Elle wouldn't have shot him, and you did

So you don't feel like Elle anymore

And the only person you knew who could make you feel like Elle again is your dad.

And as Hotch finds you, you realize that maybe you never were the Elle you and he thought you were.

You weren't the girl he should have pushed

You weren't the girl to do this job

And so as you watch him walk away you know what you need to do.

Later that night, you slam your credentials on the desk

You quit

You are done

And you don't have it in you to regret it

And you think of all the things that Elle would have done and you can't

Which is why you, the anti-Elle, hope that Hotch will understand

Because Elle would have just done it anyway

but you care too much

"This is not an admission of guilt." You say, though you both know it is

You're just screaming guilt

At first, you didn't think you would

But you don't want to be a killer

And while you still feel entirely justified

You _are_ a killer.

And this realization terrifies you

So as you turn to walk out, you want to seem grateful

Because you really did appreciate Hotch

"When I first started, I always wondered why you never smile, now I think I'm going to miss that." You say softly.

And you will miss it

Because the BAU, no matter how badly you wish it wasn't

Is still a part of you

But its time to start another story

Another life

And maybe, you can be the unmovable object this time

Maybe you'll stay

Maybe it will be worth it

Because this life--

This world....

has just--

Stopped.

* * *

Tissues, you need more tissues.

You need a lot more tissues, because for the first time since you were eight years-old, you actually let yourself fall apart.

And when you fall off of the wagon, you fall hard.

Killing a man tends to do that to a girl.

Well, you think, you've never actually had to do this before. But nonetheless, you know where you are in this scenerio.

Pathetically fallen on the bathroom floor, crying your eyes out while you haven't showered in three days.

You've found yourself in a hard place.

And so, you think you're allowed to wallow...

Until you realize, that no, you're not.

You are not allowed to wallow under any circumstances.

While you may not feel like Elle anymore, you still are her.

And Elle wouldn't cry...Ever.

So, the wallowing stops here, because you didn't leave the BAU to wallow, you left it so that you could have a fighting chance at happiness.

And you hope happiness never stops.

* * *

In three years, a lot of things changed.

Because while a whole lot of things stopped...

Others started.

Like you're career as a rape counselor, which you love, despite the fact they don't let you carry a gun.

And you're marriage to a man you met when you moved back to New York would have never started if you stayed with the BAU.

Because Brian would have never been in DC, not when he has wanted nothing more than to help the people here in Brooklyn.

And while you often find yourself on opposing sides because he is a public defender...

He's the best family you got.

You also would have never started being a mother without stopping...

And now, life without your eight-month-old daughter would seem unbearable...

And so while you thrive on the stopping, the starting isn't so bad either.

Because now, you know how to stop and be grateful for all that which has started.

* * *

_"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." _

_-Eleanor Rooseveldt_

* * *

**_AN/ Let me know what you think!_**


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